


Spilled

by stereolightning (phalaenopsis)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 21:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalaenopsis/pseuds/stereolightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment of veiled compassion from Professor Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilled

Like any veteran teacher, Professor Snape tolerates less from his students at the start of term. Less quibbling, less questioning, less whimpering. Best to start from a position of maximum gravitas before the inevitable slide downhill. 

So Cho Chang is testing his resolve, mopping up her fantastically spilled purple elixir at the back of the classroom while the rest of the sixth-year Ravenclaws file out from their first Potions lesson of the year. Normally, she is a decent student. She does her research. She does not annoy him with silly mistakes, insolent questions, or adolescent nattering. But a summer of grieving for Cedric Diggory has done her no favors. 

She's not actually crying, not actually emitting any sound, but under her dark fringe, her eyelashes stick together with half-shed tears, like blades of grass bonded with dew. 

Like himself, she is the first of her generation to lose a lover. (Does one awkward kiss on the side of your mouth count as lovers? No noun exists for what he and Lily were to one another. Almost-lovers, friends, murderer and victim - each true in their own way.) Because Cho is first, none of her classmates know how to comfort her, what to say to her. But she certainly won't be the last. No, he has seen the red embers of vengeance in the Dark Lord's eyes, and he knows worse is coming.

However, he knows that Cho is infinitely fortunate, and here is why: Cedric's death is not her fault. She will not have to spend the rest of her life atoning for the mistakes of youth. If she is smart, and she doesn't let grief swallow her, she can move past it, love someone else, live her own life. This is something he can never do. 

But at the moment, she seems determined not to realize how lucky she is. She dabs at the violet pools of potion, her trembling fingers wrapped in cleaning rags, and her lip wobbles.

Abandoning caution, the professor vanishes the rest of her mess nonverbally with a flick of his wand.

She looks up at him, her dark eyes rimmed with red and wide with surprise.

“Try harder, Miss Chang," he says, sweeping out the door, leaving her alone in the dungeon with nothing to mop but her eyes.


End file.
